


Impermanence

by shipitlikeTitanic



Category: Lighter than Heir
Genre: College AU, Daddy Issues, Detective AU, F/F, F/M, Modern AU, bcos im original ;), idk how to tag u guys, nice!zeppelin, ooc zeppelin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipitlikeTitanic/pseuds/shipitlikeTitanic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hemmel Von Schultheiss--renowned detective, national hero, subpar father-- had died in the middle of a self-assigned mission due to a stroke. That's what the cops were saying, and why should anyone doubt the cops?</p>
<p>The letter he wrote to his daughter proved otherwise. He hinted at danger, at foul play, and Zeppelin would not rest until she had her hands on the bastard who killed her father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. words are all that's left

_"I'm sorry, Mrs. Von Schultheiss. He had to go undercover for a while so we announced that he was MIA. He requested that you two won't be told because one small slip-up that you know something could be life-threatening."_

_A pause. A sympathetic look. Zeppelin could barely resist the urge to punch the pity off of his face._

_The man continued, "Unfortunately he had a stroke in the middle of a highly critical and very stressful mission. We believe he had been psychologically tortured when he was held captive and it had an adverse effect on his health."_

_"I, I--"_

_"We assure you, he went down a hero. Even when he was suffering from the stroke he didn't stop shooting."_

The letter mocked her.

Zeppelin's eyes scourged the page, searching for an odd phrase, a typo, anything that could serve as a clue.

None.

Crumpling up the paper, she shouted a curse and threw it in the trash can.

She sunk against the leather chair, took a deep breath, and collected her thoughts.

It's been six months since the disappearance.

A week since the funeral.

Two days since the letter arrived in the mail.

Apparently this letter was found on his body. Numerous friends of his claimed that Hemmel carried it around with him, along with photos, reading it and rereading it when things got tough. He'd never let them see it, so they didn't pry, but it was obvious it meant a lot to him.

Some even said it was his secret weapon. When a situation was looking bleak, a mystery unsolvable, he'd take those out, and then suddenly he'd get the answer they needed.

When she read the letter, she doubled over in desperate, heartbroken laughter. The words her father wrote were cheesy, very overdramatic, so movie generic and ridiculous that there was no way it wasn't a clue of some kind.

He wrote the usual things a dying father would say: I'm sorry, I love you, I'm so proud of you, take care of your mother, goodbye, blah blah blah. Except, her father would never say the usual things; he left riddles and mysteries around the house whenever he wasn't home as a sign of "love".

The second reason why Zeppelin was convinced that there was more to the letter was the handwriting. Her father's hand was immaculate in the letter, cursive, with no erasures, all elegant sloping lines and a heavy hand.

That was her father's business hand. Sometimes Zeppelin would read through the drafts of his letters to business associates or distant relatives. Like his presence, he made sure every word was bold and sophisticated.

But whenever he left little riddles and clues around the house for Zeppelin to solve, his handwriting was lazy, fondly so, all caps and light. He even added little doodles sometimes, of magnifying glasses or footprints, just to make fun of the detective business.

If her father intentionally chose to write this way, then he wanted to tell Zeppelin something. There was no way she wouldn't notice.

Zeppelin stood up from her chair, walked to the trash can, and picked up the crumpled piece of paper. She collapsed on her bed, drew her thighs up and smoothed the letter against them.

As her eyes scanned over the page, realization slammed against her head, knocking the wind out of her.

She scrambled up, placing the paper against her mattress. This time, she focused on the first letter of every sentence.

_**Dear** Zeppelin,_

_**A** father could not ask for a better daughter than you, sweet Engelchen. **N** ever have I deserved a girl as smart, strong and determined as you. **G** ranted, your mother was like that, so I supposed it comes at no surprirse. **E** ngelchen, remember when you graduated high school, when you announced that you were going to major in Criminology? **R** eally, nobody was surprised, even if you were acting like you just dropped a bomb on us._

_**R** emember that I love you and I'm very proud of you. **U** nderstandably, you resent me for never being home, for leaving mysteries and riddles for you instead of love and affection. **N** ot that I love my work more than you two (yes I know you think that, Engelchen) but it's just that there are other people that need us to be strong for them._

The rest of the letter's initials no longer made sense, but the first two paragraphs did. He was trying to warn them.

Her father knew he was going to die.


	2. messy flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the Von Schultheiss women almost fall apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know the right way to address the Chief of Police so if you do clue me in please.

Zeppelin didn't bother attending her father's funeral. If there was no body, then he wasn't dead.

Her mother cried, begged, threatened, screamed, for her to come.

"Zeppelin Von Schultheiss!" she had screamed through a locked door. "Maybe you can be there for your father for once in your life!"

Something had changed that night. Her mother didn't just cross the line-- she jumped over a gaping fissure, leaving her daughter on the other side.

They didn't talk anymore.

When Hemmel Von Schultheiss was announced MIA, Zeppelin had made sure that her mother ate and went out on weekends. She'd bring breakfast to her mom's room, picking the lock with finesse, and rouse her mother from a fitful slumber. When her mom's friends called or came knocking on the door, Zeppelin would let them sit in the parlor so she could tidy her mom up. She accepted their invitations for girls' night outs even when her mom said she wasn't in the mood. Zeppelin made sure her mom never stopped living.

In return, her mother had spoiled Zeppelin: bought her tickets, no curfew, free reign to go wherever, upped the allowance. If she caught Zeppelin eyeing a particular clothing item or pair of shoes, she'd nab it and slap money on the counter before checking the price. Zeppelin didn't even have to ask permission to go to parties; her mom would just materialize in her room, starting the conversation with, "So I heard your friends were throwing a party" and ending it with a "Do you have enough money?"

They never talked about it. But they shared the pain.

Then came the announcement of his death.

Abigial encased her daughter within her strong yet trembling limbs, chest heaving. Tears poured down her face and into Zeppelin's hair, while she gasped an incoherent stream of words. Zeppelin held her, face blank.

The next few days were a blur.

Relentless knocks on the door and calls on the phone. Microphones and cameras shoved into her face. Abigail disappeared in her room and didn't come out. When Zeppelin picked the lock, Abigail told her to leave. She didn't say anything after that. Even when Zeppelin begged for her attention. Even when she crawled into her mother's side and pulled the blankets over them like a decade never passed. Abigail had no words for her daughter.

Zeppelin did the chores, managed the phone calls with lawyers and higher-ups, trashed the letters of condolence. She called her mother's boss and asked for a time-out.

Despite the media hounds, she went out to do the groceries. She wore an oversized jacket, her hair in a bun and and tucked under a baseball cap. Halfway into the grocery list someone screamed her name, and it took half an hour for the security guards to manage the large crowd of people. She went out through the back exit.

She came home to a seemingly empty house. She entered the room of her empty mother.

Abigial's face went deathly pale, her eyes glassy and wide. She said, in a trembling whisper, "Hemmel?"

With that one word Abigail had Zeppelin in a choke hold. Zeppelin couldn't breathe, her lungs refused to cooperate, she'd gasp and gasp but she couldn't find the oxygen. The wool against her skin tightened and tightened, suffocating her, wrapping tightly around her like a predatory snake.

Only then did she realize that the clothes and cap she was wearing was her father's.

The next thing she realized was that that was the first word her mother had uttered to her in days.

Zeppelin stumbled out of the room with tears running down her face. She screamed profanities at the air. Her mother didn't follow.

She ran downstairs, to the parlor, where there were fifty-five voicemails waiting. Zeppelin went through them, listening for three seconds before deciding if she should delete or listen.

One message caught her attention. "Zeppelin, It's Eckstein. Call me back asap."

Her heart thudded in her chest. The Chief of Police rarely called; once to deliver the condolence, the last to manage the will.

She dialed the number. Halfway through the first ring the line picked up. "Zeppelin?"

"Good afternoon Chief Eckstein." Zeppelin didn't feel the need to ask what was up. Chief Eckstein would dive into the situation not ten seconds in.

"To you as well. As you know your father is a national hero and the best private detective the world has ever seen. He helped us prevented numerous nationwide crisis with that big brain of his. In a display of gratitude, the government has volunteered to sponsor and facilitate his funeral."

Zeppelin flatlined. Her heart started beating again when Eckstein continued, in a softer tone, "But if you or your mother would like to suggest any changes, we wouldn't refuse."

Zeppelin looked in the mirror and saw herself age ten years. The dark bags under her eyes. The permanent frown. The way her shoulders slumped. She looked up at the staircase, and back at the mirror. She said, "We'll leave you in charge."

A pause. Then, "As you wish."

"Thank you," Zeppelin said. "I imagine you need to return to your work."

"You're not very subtle with trying to get rid of me, girl." She laughed. Zeppelin didn't. Eckstein continued, "Well, okay then. See you soon."

Not really. "Goodbye." She hung up.

When Zeppelin told her mother, Abigail pulled herself together while leaving her daughter to fall apart. She began to pick out clothes, prepare her make-up, murmuring to herself. Zeppelin stormed out.

Two weeks passed and the date had arrived. Abigail walked out of her house alone.

Last night, she screamed her throat hoarse at a locked door. She said the words she wished she could take back. She went to sleep three in the morning.

Zeppelin didn't sleep at all.


	3. present day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> insanely short chapter, sorry!

After deciphering the letter Zeppelin planned to send her mom away.

She spent hours on the internet looking for ideal vacation spots before settling on a classic: Hawaii. She booked a plane, bought a ticket, even rented a remote penthouse on the island. She talked to a local tourist guide and exchanged contact information.

Zeppelin booked the earliest flight she could catch, which was due in two days. The faster her mom could leave, the better.

It's been three days since they last interacted. Abigail's remorseful glances and the extra money that appeared on Zeppelin's drawer was enough proof that she had her mother wrapped around her finger.

She caught her mom in the parlor, going through a scrapbook. At the first sound of footsteps, however, the scrapbook had disappeared back into its shelf. Abigail looked at Zeppelin with an unsure yet hopeful smile.

Zeppelin said, "I'm sorry."

Abigail was on her feet in an instant. "Oh, Engelchen, you have nothing to be sorry about. I was in the wrong, I'm so sorry, you did everyth--"

"I know you are," Zeppelin said, and Abigail wept, pure bliss on her face. Before she could say anything, Zeppelin continued, "I have a surprise for you."

"What is it?"

_Dad's alive!_ Zeppelin was tempted to say, just out of spite. Instead she said, "I booked you a ticket to Hawaii! Something to get your mind off of this . . . situation." She attempted the trademark Zeppelin grin, with the sparkles and the blinding teeth. She failed; she could tell by her mother's frown and the way the muscles around her mouth strained from disuse.

"Oh." Abigail looked confused, but she smiled anyway. "Yes, a get-away would do us good. Thank you, Engelchen." She beamed, and what was left of Zeppelin's heart shattered.

"Sorry mom, but you're going to go alone."

The confusion on her face grew before it gave way to hurt. "You're sending me away?"

"No! Mom, I wish I could come with you. But you know that's not going to help me."

"What will you do then? Do you need therapy, Engelchen?"

Like hell! "Mom, I'm applying for an internship at a private investigation agency." She crossed her arms, and her stubborness resurfaced.

Abigail hesitated, before slowly nodding. "Yes, if you think that will help you. But are you going to stay. . . here?" In this house, full of memories? she didn't say, but Zeppelin heard her anyway.

"Yeah, but only until the end of summer. I'd get a dorm at university then."

"Engelchen." Abigail placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder, her eyes shining fiercely. "I will always support you. Remember that."

Zeppelin could only nod. Her mother continued, "Who will watch the house while we're gone?"

"Grandpa and grandma, I guess."

Her mother smiled. "Let me call them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think the pacing of my story is going really, really slow. like this entire chapter is just a filler! sorry if you're not into that, but i really wanna spend a lot of time with the LtH characters!


	4. suspect list

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things burn and names are listed. parallels are drawn across the two universes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you spot the canon lines and references??

Her mother had left yesterday, and her grandparent's weren't coming until noon.

The way they said goodbye had been awkward. They had hugged and kissed, her mother had cried, and then she said, "See you soon."

Normally, they'd say buh-bye in the typically grandiose Von Schultheiss fashion, but things had changed. Now they couldn't say goodbye without their throats closing up.

It was dusk, and Zeppelin sat on the grass by the fire she made on one side, the remnants of her father on the other. The kindle she used was her father's jacket and cap, the one she wore weeks ago.

She watched the flames devour the cloth, watched them curl into the dull orange-blue of the sky. Sparks flew and landed on the wet grass. The sun peeked above the horizon.

Miles and miles away, her mother was calling the phone without getting an answer.

Zeppelin stood up abruptly. She spat at the fire, "I hate you."

Throwing a picture into the flames, she continued, "You think you're a hero, huh? You think you're such a good person?" A watch flew into the fire. "You couldn't even raise one daughter! You couldn't even take Momma on one date!

"Soooo many people you've helped. So many achievements, wow! What about your own flesh and blood, huh? Think you can handle taking care of them? Or is that too much to ask?"

She was crying now, breathing uneven, teeth bared. Her chest hurt so much she wanted to rip her heart out to make it stop. "You and your stupid riddles around the house. Trying to pretend it's quality time." She barked out a laugh that sounded nothing like her. So primal and angry, like a wounded animal. "I barely even know you."

She tossed his scarf into the fire, laughing when it slowly turned to ashes. "You know, I'm still going to be a detective. Except I'll be nothing like you. I'll be better," she said through a feral smile, kicking his goggles into the flames. "And I am not going to die at thirty five."

"You knew." The fire was getting bigger and angrier, licking at her threateningly. The prickling heat washed over, but it couldn't quite compete with the inward pain. "You knew you were in danger but you let yourself get killed. You're a loser after all."

She hesitated before tossing his goodbye letter into the fire. "No one," she said in a dangerous voice, "is ever going to know about this. You do not get to be the victim."

"How are you, Mom?"

"It's beautiful here, Engelchen. So full of life and colors! But I got sand in my bag, and it's a pain to clean. If you were here, I would've left the cleaning to you!" Forced laughter.

"Have you talked to Devon?"

"Devon? Who . . . oh, that tourist guide you talked to. Nein, nein, I think I need some time alone." Abigail's voice had gone softer by the end of the sentence.

"As long as you're happy."

"So which agency are you going to apply at?"

A pregnant pause. Zeppelin didn't have to say anything for her mother to understand.

"Are you sure, Engelchen?"

"It's going to be mine in the future, anyway," Zeppelin said with all the arrogance she could muster.

One emotionally exhausting phone call with her mother later, Zeppelin was sitting in the study, researching her father on her laptop.

It was no secret that her father had many criminal enemies. However, her prime suspect was the Eagle Eye Investigators themselves. They made a false cover for her father's death. Zeppelin planned to eliminate them, to sue them senseless. If the agency collapsed, so be it. Zeppelin was going to build a grander empire of sharper (and loyal) investigators. However her only proof was the letter, and any good lawyer could explain it away with a coincidence.

Of course, Zeppelin had made two copies. She wasn't dumb like her father was.

The internet wasn't helping. Every search result was a tribute, a memorial, absolute bull. She decided to search the members of EEI instead. She took note of the people who were close to her father, who had worked with him, the comments they made. She opened a Word document and began to copy paste.

(Her father had no known enemies among his coworkers. What an angel. Ha. He still ended up dead.)

The list of criminals he threw in jail was her next target. Specifically, their families.

Zeppelin groaned when she saw the long, long list.

It was three hours and she wasn't even halfway through.

She researched their backgrounds, their connections, if they had any links to the powerful positions, legal or illegal. Someone who could pull the strings to cover up the truth behind her father's death.

Her closest suspect was Volger, who had a cousin that was a member of the Zamoran Mafia. Volger was a goody-goody employee at the EEI who once worked under her father. He had nothing but flowery words to say about Hemmel, and was apparently "devastated" by his death. Feh.

A few minutes later she found something interesting once again.

Her father had jailed a con man named Fritz Roth around Zeppelin's age last year. He was a slippery one, but of course no one escaped the clutches of the great Hemmel Von Schultheiss (eww).

Apparently he was the disowned son of the governor of Brecha. If there was something politicians hated, it was a big hit to their ego. Like getting their son thrown in jail. Even if he had been disowned, they still shared the same last name.

To her pleasant surprise, Zeppelin discovered that she was going to be attending the same university as he was.

A genuine smile--a smirk actually, but it was progress--snaked its way across Zeppelin's face. 

Let the fun begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, other characters that aren't family members!


	5. first appearances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPER WARNING! zeppelin's gonna be (gasp) somewhat friendly here!! if you don't like ooc kindness I suggest you put on your sunglasses because zeppelin's about to be a ray of gahdamn sunshine.

The only therapy for Zeppelin was vengeance.

When she applied for the internship, living up to her father's name was the third thing on her to-do list. The first was finding out which bastard cooperated in his death. The second was making them pay.

It had to be someone in the organization. Unless they were fooled, which would be dumb, because the EEI supposed to be an unstoppable force against criminal masterminds. The strongest ally of the police force. Even the interns were prodigies. But Zeppelin was better.

The doors to the local firm flew open as Zeppelin strode in and announced that she was their new intern. Incredulous looks were sent her way, but she met each one with a glare.

As she was signing the papers, she said in a haughty voice that echoed in the room, "You're welcome, by the way. Your jobs are gonna get easier with me around."

Her moment was stolen by the photographers and journalists crowding the entrance, begging for a few moments of Zeppelin's time. Zeppelin's mood darkened. Everyone near her shifted away, averting their gazes.

After the harrasment she and her mother suffered under those media hounds, she was not about to pay them even a shred of attention.

She turned to the nearest security guard and hissed, "If those salivating arschlocher with a camera fetish are still swarming around the doors like mosquitoes around a septic tank, scheisse is going to go down." Everyone in the room shifted further away.

He hurried off, speaking in his walkie-talkie in a rapidfire way. That's right, Zeppelin thought smugly.

She went back to filling in the forms.

Hours later she collapsed in her new bed. The dorm was much too small compared to what she was used to: just a bed, a closet, and a drawer on her side on the room, mirrored on the other side. The shower was tiny as well.

The sacrifices she made for her deadbeat father.

Her eyes were about to shut when the door opened. Then, a squeak: "Omigosh, you're Zeppelin Von Schultheiss!"

Zeppelin squeezed her eyes shut and didn't answer.

"U-um, okay, you're sleeping, cool. That's cool! That's so so so cool! I can't believe I can see Zeppelin Von Schultheiss sleep!"

Honestly, Zeppelin's full name was a pain in the mouth. She could admire the girl's determination. Didn't mean she was going to talk to her, though.

"H-hello? Dude! Zeppelin Von Schultheiss is is is is my she's my omigosh! Ohhhhh my gosh! She's my roomie!"

At first Zeppelin thought that the girl was talking to her, but then she concluded that she was more likely on the phone. Gah. She really needed to sleep. She couldn't even identify the obvious anymore.

"I'm not hallucinating! I swear!"

Heh.

"Look, I'll take a picture."

Nope. Zeppelin's eyes flew open. The girl screamed.

She had dark hair and dark skin and eyes that were so round and wide it was impossible not to see the emotions in them. She wore the Heidelberg University varsity jacket, and there was a gym bag on her bed. Her face was also round, and she was a bit on the chubby side, but Zeppelin could clearly see that the girl had intimidating strength.

She never would've guessed by the way the girl moved, though. She was trembling, her mouth hung open, and she was so jittery and jumpy Zeppelin felt that if she so much as yawned she would give the girl a stroke.

(Heh. Stroke.)

"Do you mind?" Zeppelin asked, letting her irritation show. "I'm tired and I need sleep."

It took a few moments before the girl answered. She just stared with her mouth open, blinking rapidly. Zeppelin was about to drop against the pillows when she heard a voice quietly say, "Can I take a picture, please?"

Zeppelin sighed, but smiled. The girl squealed and snapped a photo. Immediately, Zeppelin fell against the mattress and rolled over, showing the girl her back.

"Sleep tight," the girl said.

You bet I will, Zeppelin thought, as she gave the girl a thumbs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, the act of kindness I warned you about is zeppelin smiling for the camera and giving a thumbs up. i have no idea what canon characterization means


	6. alcohol is always the answer

When she woke up, it was dead in the night. She could hear snores coming from the other side of the room. Turning her phone on, and getting harrassed by a bright beam of light in the process, she squinted at the time and discovered that it was half past midnight.

The perfect time to get hammered.

After changing into a tank top, jeans and a black hoodie, she grabbed her cap and backpack. She tiptoed out of the room and shut the door as silently as possible, cringing at the click.

She was going low key tonight, just her and a pyramid of beer bottles. Zero human interaction except for the bartender. The hoodie she had on even had "do not disturb" written on the back in white and all caps. If someone dared to talk to her, they couldn't blame her for the fist she'd send their way.

The moment she stepped out of the building and into the cold night air, Zeppelin felt lost. As she looked around New Campus, with its medieval-style buildings and grassy paths lined with trees, she felt small. Between the trees and the buildings and the endless night that stretched above her, she didn't feel like anybody. The clothes clinging to her body, the straps clenched in her fingers, the bag weighing her down-- none of them felt real.

Unanchored. With one sweep of the gentle breeze, Zeppelin felt like she would disperse. She closed her eyes and waited for . . . nothing.

Her eyes flew open. She straightened her cap, tugged at her hoodie, readjusted the straps on her bag. She pulled herself together and rebelled against the wind that threatened to take her way.

She pegged her momentary confusion as homesickness and forged on.

Heidelberg was still unfamiliar to her, so she figured she'd wander around until she found music and lights that usually led to liquor.

The grass crunched beneath her first as she strayed from the pavement. The way out of the campus was a mystery to her, one she was confident she'd solve in no time.

Steinbech was a different city at night.

In the morning, it looked like a medieval kingdom, with crumbling castles and brick houses and grand arches. Streets of paved stone and that twisted around the city in a confusing sprawl. The smell of freshly baked pastries and apples.

At night, it looked dead. Seemingly empty houses and bare streets. Windows that watched and the wind that listened. Everything was still save for Zeppelin.

Streetlights emmitted a faint glow, casting shadows across the floor and walls. A few policemen strolled along, watching for curfew-breakers such as herself. Zeppelin cursed and retreated into the campus. She was in no mood to play cat and mouse.

As she stomped back into New Campus, she kept an eye out for the biggest, scariest tree Steinbech University had to offer. She found one with gnarled branches that twisted impossibly high into the sky and a trunk thrice her width. She plomped beneath it and leaned against the trunk, closing her eyes.

"Hey, you."

Zeppelin's eyes snapped open. In front of her was the silhouette of man, tall and well-built, features indistinguishable due to the streetlight that glowed behind him.

"It's past curfew. Go to your dorm and I won't have to report you."

Zeppelin rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and squeezed her eyes shut as she curled against the tree.

"Ugh. Are you drunk?"

She murmured, "Sadly, no."

A few moments of silence. Then, the guy said, "Because you look so pathetic sitting there, I'll give you a pass. And--"

In a second, Zeppelin jumped forward and had the guy's shirt in her fist. Baring her teeth, she hissed, "I don't need your pity. Get lost." She shoved him, making him stumble back a few steps.

Up close, she could see that the man looked around her age, and wore glasses. He wore a black and gray varsity jacket similar to her roommate's, and had messy hair and pants that stopped right at the ankles. Probably one of the goody-goody student patrols.

The guy said, "If you don't want to get drunk, then fine then. I'll leave." He turned around and walked off.

"Wait!" Zeppelin jogged to catch up to him. "Show me where I can screw myself over with alcohol poisoning and we'll never have to talk again."

He didn't stop walking as he pointed to the left. "Keep walking there until you find the Thunderbirds frat house."

"What's that look like?" Zeppelin asked, but the guy had already vanished around the corner.

Fuming, Zeppelin turned on her heel and stomped to where she was directed.

Eight shots and counting. Zeppelin could no longer see five meters in front of her. Everything was reduced to a blurry haze of moving colors.

The bass pounded into her head, mixed with yelling and laughter. Her nose was assaulted by booze and sweat and puke. The world tilted to the left, and Zeppelin placed both palms flat against the bar to steady herself.

"Another!" Zeppelin slammed a bill on the counter. She couldn't tell how much.

The barkeep said something she didn't understand. Just an incoherent sound of syllables slamming into each other and then flinging into her face.

"Wha?" She tried to squint at the blurred shape in front of her but before she could grab at any details, they'd vanish into the sea of colors.

A low voice said into her ear, "I said, that's enough."

Blindly, her hands fumbled at the person. Her palms found flesh, and she pushed back. "Personal space. Ever heard of that?"

"You couldn't hear me when I was right in front of you."

"I can hear you now." Blinking rapidly, Zeppelin stared straight ahead, allowing her vision to refocus. The mess of colors slowly adjusted themselves, falling into place, like puzzle pieces forming a picture.

What she saw sobered her up fast.

A man with strong features, a mean grin, and rippling muscles stood behind the bar. He had a scar on his cheek, and the hair on his head was dyed blond. Or where the sides dyed black? Zeppelin couldn't tell. But what she did know was this guy was Fritz Roth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doesn't Thunderbirds sound more like a football team instead of a frat? if you have any suggestions drop a comment please! for now i'll be sticking with mythological creatures.


	7. friendship is magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more ooc-ness! this will be my last warning of ooc-ness okay i think you guys get the point by now

"So, Zeppelin Von Schultheiss. In the flesh." Roth leaned against the counter, watching Zeppelin eat the burger and fries he served her.

"And you are?" Zeppelin asked, and then finished off her burger with one big bite. A few crumbs fell from her lips and onto the fries. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, catching crumbs and a smear of ketchup.

"Fritz Roth. Nice to meet you. You, uh." Roth averted his gaze. "Grew up."

"Yes, that's true." Zeppelin began to devour the fries.

Roth looked at her again, then scratched at the back of his neck. "Sorry. How old are you now?"

"Nineteen."

"I'm twenty-two."

"Senior?"

"Nah, freshie. I've been. . . held back."

"Huh." Zeppelin sipped her water.

Roth quirked an eyebrow. "You really don't know me?"

"What, are you famous or something?" Points for amazing acting skills. Zeppelin gave herself a mental pat on the back.

"Nope." Roth's stare grew intense as he scrutinized Zeppelin, from her hair to her eyes to her mouth. Somewhere along those areas. Zeppelin still hadn't mastered pinning someone's gaze. "I knew your father."

"Oh. So what, are you a family friend?"

"Heh. He threw me in jail."

"Who didn't he throw in jail?" They shared a chuckle, before Zeppelin continued, "What did you do?"

"Con man. I'm surprised you don't know me. He was kinda passionate about taking me out."

"I don't really keep track of his hit list."

"Well. When he called the cops on me, he talked to me 'fore they arrived. Well, talked some sense into me. He convinced me to continue my education and all. He even offered to pay."

Zeppelin straightened her spine and looked him in the eye, searching for signs of a lie. Roth gazed back for a few seconds before looking away. Zeppelin returned to her fries. "Good that you listened, then."

"I never got to thank him, though. Turned a new leaf and all, talked to my dad, worked things out. Because of him. I tried to contact him but man, was it impossible."

Zeppelin snorted. "You don't say." She spat the words out like they tasted bitter. Roth shifted uncomfortably, so Zeppelin motioned with one hand for him to continue.

"So I figured I'd thank you. I don't know, s'kinda stupid. I bet he'd be happy if I repayed the favor to you, though."

Zeppelin shrugged. "He won't mind if you never said thanks anyway. And you did repay the favor."

Roth's eyebrows drew together. "I did?"

"Yeah. You saved me from alcohol poisoning."

They laughed. Roth said, "You can go enjoy the party now. I feel like I'm holding you back."

"Nah, I'll stay here."

Zeppelin and Roth chatted for a while, and the longer they talked, the more Zeppelin was convinced that Roth wasn't involved. That, or he was a superb actor who smoothed things over with Zeppelin to clear his name of suspicion.

If Roth's story was to be believed, then his governor daddy would be grateful instead of vengeful towards Hemmel. Since Roth was majoring in Criminology as well, it would be a matter of time before he gets to clear the Roth family name.

Of course, never take a con man on his word, new leaf or not. Zeppelin was going to have to talk to the Brechan governor and see if their stories match up. According to Fritz, his dad made a big show out of his change of heart, announcing it to the public. That was overshadowed by news of the court trials and Hemmel's victory, however. Only Google could tell if that was the truth.

In the middle of Roth's lame knock-knock jokes, at which point Zeppelin was prepared to commit murder, a pretty blond girl had plopped on the stool next to her.

She said, "Hi Fritz! I didn't see you! Who's your-- whoa whoa whoa! WHOA!"

Roth laughed. Zeppelin smiled. "Hi!" She gave the girl a two-fingered wave.

The girl burst into tears.

Zeppelin was horrified. She said, "Roth! Your friend!"

Roth laughed harder.

Reaching over to rub the girl's back, Zeppelin murmured soothing things, such as: "Don't worry, we'll get through this. Have faith."

The blond girl giggled nervously. "Ah, sorry. I overreacted. I was just so . . . overwhelmed!" Brushing her bangs out of her face, the girl looked up at Zeppelin, eyes shining with adoration. "I mean, you're Zeppelin Von Schultheiss!"

"I know."

The girl shifted her eyes away, biting her lip. "Y-yeah, of course you know that, hehe."

Roth leaned forward, reminding them that yes, he existed. "Zeppelin, this is my best friend, Ria Klein. Head cheerleader, homecoming queen, part-time model."

Klein slapped Roth's arm. "Don't try to impress her! I bet she was all of those, but more!" The embarrassment on her face turned into a dreamy look.

Zeppelin grinned. Like anyone else, she loved flattery. Ate it up. Three full meals of compliments a day, with heart eyes on the side. Yum. "Well, I'm not a part-time model."

Klein looked shocked. Horrified. Scandalized. "But you're so pretty! And--" Her eyes dragged up and down Zeppelin's body. "So flawless. You're like the girl every photographer tries to copy through photoshop!"

"True," Zeppelin said, "But everyone's flawless when you're drunk. How sober are you?"

"Oh," Klein said, biting her lip again. "I don't drink." She smiled shyly.

"What!" Zeppelin faced Roth. "You, fix this!"

Roth put his hands in the air, like he was about to get thrown in jail once again. "Gotta respect her wishes."

"But it's a party!"

"I have more fun when I'm not drunk," Klein said, her voice down to a mumble. "I like to see everything. . . clearly."

Zeppelin shrugged. "Makes sense, I guess. More for me, then!"

"No," Roth said.

"Why not?" Klein faced her friend, corner of her mouths tugged down.

"She's had, like, eight shots. There's orientation tomorrow."

"Eight?" Klein looked shocked. Horrified. Scandalized. Wow, the number of adjectives that could describe Klein's scandalized look was limitless. Zeppelin would never stop using her top three, though. "How are you still alive?"

"Maybe 'cause I'm not a baby."

"Fritz couldn't make it past five," Klein said.

"I so can!" Fritz slammed his fist on the counter.

"Let's see it then!" Zeppelin smirked.

Five shots later: Zeppelin was howling with laughter, Fritz was passed out, and Klein was trying to reverse time by channeling the god of regretful decisions.

"He's gonna start puking!" Even under the red lights, Zeppelin could see that Klein was deathly pale. Her hands wouldn't stop jittering as her wide eyes pegged onto Fritz' unmoving form slumped on the counter.

Zeppelin rolled her eyes. "Damn lightweight. Let's get him to the bathroom."

It was two o'clock and they were still dancing.

Roth, after puking his guts out in the girls' bathroom, had ascended from knocked out drunk to party 'til dawn drunk. Zeppelin snuck a few shots behind his back to regain her high, while Klein was more than ready to prove why she deserved the title of head cheerleader.

They danced together, in the midst of a mass of moving bodies, hot and sweaty and happy. An elbow would sometimes nudge Zeppelin, a butt would bump her, Klein's hand found its way into hers. The bass thrummed through the crowd, vibrations running up Zeppelin's spine, spiking her adrenaline. The air was charged with electricity and booze.

All Zeppelin could see where glimpses. Roth's earring glinting with red light. Klein's blond ponytail bouncing. A beer bottle sailing through the air. Hands waving, bodies moving in different motions yet following one rhythm.

After a few songs, Zeppelin realized it was much, much easier to breathe, and she could no longer feel bodies bumping against her. She opened her eyes entirely and saw that the crowd had formed a circle around them. She grinned, took Klein's hand and dragged her away from the still dancing Roth.

Realization hit Klein and Roth simultaneously, judging from their twin smiles. Roth pointed at Zeppelin and announced, "Zeppelin Von Schultheiss, I challenge thee to a dance off!"

"Challenge accepted!" Zeppelin took a confident step forward, hands on her hips. She smiled with all her teeth showing. "Whoever wins takes the blond beauty." She jerked her thumb at Klein, who squealed. Hoots and roars exploded from the crowd.

"Deal!" Roth cracked his knuckles, tilting his head left and right. Zeppelin rolled her eyes. "Let's see what you've got, Von Schultheiss."

Roth wasn't half-bad: his moves were coordinated, he brought life to the beat, he danced with sure grace and confidence.

Unfortunately for him, Zeppelin had all of those, plus flair.

When his number was over with and the crowd had finished their roaring and applause, Zeppelin held up a hand to quiet them down. She smirked at Roth, who grinned right back. She said, "Say goodbye to your best friend."

Let it be known that Zeppelin Von Schultheiss was the absolute queen of aerobics and break dancing. She moved like gravity didn't exist for her. She moved with the absolute force of an army marching forward, with the grace of a music box coming to life, with all the flames of a forest fire catastrophe. She didn't move to the beat; she danced like the beat was made for her. She danced like she was volant.

In short: she absolutely destroyed the dance floor. Eliminated. Annihilated. All that's left was rubble and a gaggle of bewildered spectators.

When she danced, she was lost in her own world, just the movement and the music. When she finished, she registered the awe on Roth's face, the clapping, and the chants of "Von Schultheiss! Von Schultheiss!"

Roth shook his head, a smile on his face. He said something that was drowned in the shouts and chants.

` Zeppelin felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Klein's worshipful gaze and her small smile. But her brows were furrowed. Zeppelin quirked an eyebrow.

Klein yelled over the noise, "People were taking pictures and videos of you. If any of them posted online, someone might send the authorities over."

Zeppelin cursed. She grabbed Klein's arm and motioned frantically at Roth, who was lapping up praise from some guys nearby. Roth caught sight of her waving hands and excused himself, walking over. "Nice, Von Schultheiss. That's the only praise I'm giving you, though."

"We need to go." Zeppelin's reply was curt and cutting, turning Roth's grin into a frown. "Some morons took videos or pictures or whatever."

"Chill." Roth's smile came creeping back. "This is college, not high school. Kids are smarter now, 'specially in this tight frat. No one's gonna post anything that could kick up an issue."

"Not even when they have the chance to gloat about seeing Zeppelin Von Schultheiss?"

The mirth drained out of Roth. "Scheisse."

"Yep. Let's bail."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so what I did here was experiment with the dynamics between characters. in canon, the cast was split among each other. roth and ada usually stuck together, emmerich and zeppelin, so on and so forth. i wanted to see what would happen if the unlikelys were grouped together. and also, zeppelin's nice, so they'd get along okay i think.
> 
> complaints or critcisms or advice leave them below!


	8. forces of nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluffy friendship goals

"What time is it?"

"Three."

"Arschloch!"

"Well, you asked."

"Not you, moron. We have orientation today, ugh."

"Hah, yeah."

"How's Klein?"

"Still asleep."

"You're not tired from that piggy back ride yet? I can carry her too."

"I've done this before, don't worry. Besides, she'll panic if she wakes up on your back."

"I'll carry her bridal style then."

"Every girl's wet dream."

Laughter.

"Where do we go from here, Von Schultheiss?"

"I dunno, I'm the newbie! Do you have any hide-outs here? I don't want the student cops or whatever kicking my door down."

"I wish we'd have no curfew on weekends. They know it's a student necessity to party past midnight."

"Wheeeere can we craaaash?"

"I don't know, Von Schultheiss. Honest. Tonsa kids would let us stay in but I wouldn't trust them not to mess around with our stuff while we sleep. Or snitch on us if bribed. My pals are either at the party or stay with parents or some other guardian."

"Ugh! Ooooooooh my gosh!" A kick sent a pebble flying. "You know what, let's go hobo."

"Seriously? Park benches it is?"

"Mmm?"

"Go to sleep, Klein."

"Z-zeppelin. . . so cool. . ."

"Heh, she loves me."

"Hey, Von Schultheiss. That's a comfy looking spot over there, hidden by trees and bushes."

"Sounds like home to me."

Zeppelin opened her eyes to leaves falling. The sky was a blend of purple and orange, littered with a few stars far away from each other. Leaves and branches stretched above her like a green roof.

Despite the breeze, Zeppelin was warm all over. Her head was cushioned against Klein's plush rump. On her belly was a mess of blond hair and heat, moving up and down to her slow breathing.

The taste of booze lingered in her mouth, mixed with dry saliva and awful, awful morning breath. It smelled like spring and vodka and hormones.

A few moments later she registered the pain in her head. It felt like a nail was positioned against her temple and a skilled carpenter was hammering it in. Between her eyes needles struck her flesh repeatedly. She let out a loud groan.

Roth shifted around. Then he murmured, "Von Schultheiss?"

"Man." Zeppelin tried to move her arms, one arm was above her head, trapped beneath Klein's stomach. Her other hand was beneath Roth's lower back. "Can you get off my hand?"

Roth rolled over, landing on Zeppelin's belly button and freeing her hand. Zeppelin pressed her palm against her temple.

"I have," Roth said, "a killer headache."

"Me too, dude. Me too."

"Ria?" Roth rolled over to face Zeppelin again.

Zeppelin kept her eyes on the sky as she shook her head. "She's dead."

"I don't think I can make it to orientation."

"Wanna skip?"

"Hell yeah. Ria won't, though. She's a nerd."

"Scheibe. I'd feel better about ditching if a nerd came with us."

"You a goody-goody too, Von Schultheiss?"

"I try. Especially on the first gahdamn day of college."

"Fair point. As the adult of this pack," he said smugly, making Zeppelin groan, "I say we don't skip."

"You tryna kill me Roth?"

"I'm trying to keep you from getting a stain on your record. I think. I dunno. I'm mostly doing this to annoy you."

"As the alpha of this pack," Zeppelin said, putting emphasis on alpha, "I say we. . ." Her mother came to mind, and with her all of the support and trust she never failed to give. "Avoid staining our records. Scheisse."

"Huh. Didn't think you'd agree. Let's get ready."

It was six in the morning, which left them all half an hour to prepare. Zeppelin took off, full speed ahead, while Roth ran in the opposite direction, Klein on his back again.

When Zeppelin arrived at her door, she found it was unlocked. She was sure she locked it last night, which could mean a few things: one, her roommate left early and had a short memory span, two, her roommate was waiting for someone, or three, someone had come in.

None of them were very comforting situations.

Upon opening it, she found the room empty and both beds made. On her bed was a piece of paper. She picked it up and read it.

"You're in trouble. :( Student patrol came here and asked for you. I told them you went to the rooftop because your phone had no signal. :( :( :("

Good old unnamed roommate. Always had Zeppelin's back.

In ten minutes she had eaten salty crackers with painkillers for dessert, brushed her teeth, took a bath and changed into jeans and a striped sweater. She grabbed her trusty backpack and opened the door to find Roth mid-knock.

"Klein's downstairs with donuts and pizza." Ah, the ideal breakfast: deep fried greasy junk foods.

"Nice. Read this, though." Zeppelin held up her roommate's note with two fingers. Roth plucked it from her hold, frown deepening as his eyes scanned over the note.

"My roommate didn't say anything. Klein's had texted her last night, saying that some nerd was looking for her. But she thought it was some pesky admirer so she sent him off." He began to speed walk down the hall, Zeppelin at his heels.

"Our roommates are awesome-r than yours."

"Grammar like yours get people accepted into the most prestigious of universities."

"True." They sped down the stairs, Roth's long legs allowing him to take three steps at a time. Zeppelin slid on the railings, lavishing in the rush of wind that wooshed against her, sending her hair back.

"Where's the paper?" she asked when they landed on ground floor.

"In my pocket."

"I'll eat it. Evidence against us is bad."

"Cool!" He handed her the paper with an excited grin. "We could just rip it up and throw it in the trash, but this one's better."

Zeppelin ripped it up and threw it in the trash.

Klein walked up to them, shadows beneath her eyes contrasting against her pale face, the bounce in her step missing. Hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, one ear missing an earring, white shirt untucked. Her pink cardigan was balanced unevenly on her shoulders, one sleeve covering her hand entirely while the other rode up to her elbow. Her shoes were a mismatched pink and white converse, and her dark skinny jeans looked like the pair she wore yesterday. She wore a tired smile as she handed them pizza slices in plastic and a donut box.

"I'm not used to three hours of sleep," she said as she munched on a donut.

"We can see that." Zeppelin rolled her eyes, smiling. Klein's eyes lit up happily as she beamed at Zeppelin. Her shuffling turned into full on power walking as she rolled across campus grounds like she owned it.

"I'm always the third wheel when you two are together," Roth complained from behind them. The two girls grinned and linked arms, laughing when they heard Roth grumble.

They arrived at the assembly, which took place on the large grassfield with a circular stage in the middle. Above the stage was a large screen, and at the podium stood a dark-skinned man with dark hair and a dark, maniacal grin. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of tinted glasses. His teeth glinted, even from across the field where Zeppelin stood, white and bright and large.

The screen came to life, focused on the man. A deep scar ran across his cheekbone, and there was a gap in his teeth.

This was the face of a man who had tasted battle.

Then, his voice boomed into the microphone, "Students of Criminology! I am Sir Austerlitz. You don't need to know my first name because we are not, and never will be, friends." His grin grew wider.

"You have chosen a hellish career path. You've got to be all kinds of smart: street smart, book smart, analytical and intuitive. Not to mention physically fit! So let me tell you right now: you are probably not going to make it."

The way he addressed them was like a general barking orders at his soldiers before sending them off to war; no sugarcoating, just harsh reality. His voice was deep and firm and booming, the sound of a volcano erupting.

"This is Steinbech, chumps!" he pounded his fist on the podium with a happy smile on his face, like he was the deliverer of good news. "Anybody who's not good enough will get dumped on the sidewalk before we're even through the first month. Those who want to shift courses better do it now. You may feel embarrassed if you do, but you'll feel a whole lot of shame if you do it later."

Zeppelin's adrenaline spiked. She rocked back and forth on her heels, hands on her hips, smile wide as she listened to the man threaten them with failure. She was at the party again, booze in her head and the music in her system, bass vibrating through her and exploding at her fingertips. She felt invincible, unstoppable, a storm waiting to happen.

In the corner of her eye, Roth was grinning as well, ready to take on a challenge, prepared to contain tsunamis if he had to. Klein next to her was more composed, nothing but an interested smile, resembling a mountain waiting to avalanche.

Zeppelin had chosen forces of nature as her friends. She always did have good taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO MISSED TEH AUSTERLITZ

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fanfic cuz im such a hipsterrrrrrr


End file.
